


unravelling

by pistolgrip



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: ...without a happy ending?, Angst, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 09:04:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17363075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pistolgrip/pseuds/pistolgrip
Summary: Realizations of love are not always cause for celebration, Six learns.





	unravelling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yueru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yueru/gifts).



> for a friend, who wanted to see 2000 words of a sort-of unrequited sie/six!

There is no doing away with a thought. Once it appears, it _exists_ —and if there's anything Six has abundance of, it's unwanted thoughts.

The village their mission takes them to that day is idyllic, despite the generations of inter-family strife marring the calm scenery. Siete extends the mission information to Six, asking him to come along; these days, it's harder and harder to ignore the storm of emotions that come with interacting with the man, making him feel as though he were on the precipice of becoming something greater yet worse than himself all at once.

After deliberation, Six agrees to help with reparation efforts around the village, helping to mend the scars of the past, despite his instincts telling him to decline. It's hard to resist Siete when he's at his most charismatic, especially about the betterment of others, but he knows there's something else about Siete that always has Six acquiesce so easily.

Caught in the monotony of physical labour, it brings his wandering mind's attention back to Siete, as if he'd ever stopped thinking about him.

It's impossible to miss how Siete can command most rooms when he walks in; whether it be to garner everyone's attention or their irritation, people's tend to look towards him. Siete knows it and wears it well—some of the newer members of the Grandcypher treat him like a joke, but eventually they need help, and more often than not, Siete is the one that lends his time and effort to help out those in need.

It should then be no surprise that his propensity for kindness towards everyone includes Six, but the help that Siete offers him is never called help. He calls it camaraderie, _friendship,_ and Six doesn't realize how far he's fallen into Siete's trap until now.

The thoughts that tell him he doesn't deserve kindness aren't new. The thoughts that say he _does_ are, and Siete is to blame, removing him further from the clutches of self-awareness and what might be ignorant bliss.

He's seen the people Siete talk to improve over time. The twins smile more these days. Song makes friends around the ship easier, a ray of sunshine among the Eternals. Carren has reconciled with her family, has turned into a strong leader in her own right.

Six has done nothing, hasn't changed in the slightest. He's gotten worse, if the ugly swirl in his gut when he sees Siete show similar kindness to the others is an indicator. There may have been a point where Six _enjoyed_ coexisting with others, but now he feels as though he takes up space that could be better used for the people that do improve under Siete's guidance.

And yet, Siete fills him with hope that there could be something more for him. Siete has his own brand of persistence that breaks through where the cracks have loosened, and for a moment Six allows himself to reach halfway.

Siete's given him pain, and he hesitates to say it's the same as the pain he's grown accustomed to. He's never gone a day without feeling the pain of his sins, but the pain Siete gives him has _catharsis,_ flow ing into the rest of his life without him realizing.

Siete helps him find purchase on solid ground, doesn't elevate him to the delusional grandeur of the highest peaks, offers a hand to keep him from falling back down where he can't be recovered. Around Siete, he feels emotions he didn't think he had time to feel: irritation, annoyance, childish victory over insignificant competitions. Things that he shouldn't feel because they're so detached from the misgivings that weigh him down, and yet, even then, Siete so easily gets a rise out of him.

Siete lets him put his feet on solid ground, walks by his side and nudges him in directions without ever shoving. It's nothing as dramatic as the light that brought him from despair, but sometimes the smallest guides are the most significant, pinpricks of stars with their true brilliance obscured by lightyears between them.

—Six loves him. The revelation is nauseating.

Rarely do revelations come at him full force. They normally creep up on him, snaking through his armour, but Siete has always had a way of barrelling through his defenses. He never does so unfairly, instead making Six undo everything of his own accord, just as he is now.

He doesn't know how long he's been standing there, staring at the wall of the orphanage he's been repairing, until someone asks him if he's okay. He nods, and the action of it is dizzying with the weight of his world turning on its ends. Memories wash over him, and he struggles to keep his head above water, and he wonders whether he should just succumb and allow himself to drown in Siete's kindness.

He is in love with Siete, and he knows, intimately, what happens to the people that he loves.

* * *

That night, Siete sleeps soundly in the bed next to him, his steady breathing a metronome ticking away at his sanity. Six has been lying awake for hours, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling, watching the shadows of the leaves that obscure the moonlight.

He has to leave. To protect, he has to isolate. Wasn't that the lesson he learnt all those years ago as a child? Something nags at him that it won't work, that Siete will always find a way back once he has his mind set on something, and then another part of him thinks, _you were never worth that much._

Still, a job is a job. As much as he'd love to leave in the middle of the night, he's here as a request from Siete. As an Eternal.

In frustration, he throws the sheets off himself and walks quietly across their room. He shrugs on a thin jacket, brings two small daggers for protection, and goes outside. He doesn't know where he's going, only that it needs to be anywhere but here.

It's not until the outskirts of town that he acknowledges the footsteps following behind him; they're familiar, slightly heavier in one foot than the other, but nimble all the same. Like a swordsman should be. "Siete," he says, without turning around. "What are you doing here?"

"I should be asking that," he says, but not without a yawn.

"I'm leaving," Six says suddenly, Siete's tiredness causing a new wave of guilt to wash over him.

"But we've—"

"I'm finishing the mission, but I'm resigning from the Eternals."

When Siete says nothing else, he turns around; the shock is plain on Siete's face, and under the unforgiving cast of the moonlight, Six thinks there might be some hurt. But all he has is his speculation of that moment, because Siete's face returns to a smile, but smaller. More understanding. "Alright," Siete says, and nothing else. Six can't gleam anything else from the single word. No intentions, emotions, anything.

Six glares at him, eyes narrowing in suspicion, heart thundering against his ribs. "'Alright'?"

"Questioning it is an invitation to continue talking," Siete laughs, "and I know how much you hate listening to me talk." The self-deprecation isn't new in Siete's jokes, but there's an edge of truth in it that Six winces at. "'Alright' as in, I trust you can make that judgment in sound mind and sound heart. We'll be able to find someone to be our melee fighter, but do know you're irreplaceable." His eyes are sharp with clarity even as the rest of his face is gentle from the moonlight, and Six is drawn like a moth to flame, like insects to honey. Like Icarus to the sun.

"I'm irreplaceable, but you can find someone? What sort of drivel is this?" Even then, his heart rises up his chest to lodge in his throat—and maybe that's what love is, the feeling of vulnerability so all-encompassing that Six is left with nothing of himself but hope, burning in his chest, cradled in Siete's hands.

"Well, Six, there's no one quite like you." Siete winks, and he grits out a sigh, because Siete has to make this difficult, doesn't he? The man that stands in front of Six right now isn't the diplomatic negotiator, or the leader of the Eternals. Siete stands in front of him, equally vulnerable. Still in sleep clothes, no weapons on his person, as a friend. "But really, what brought this on?"

And maybe that's what love is, too—the equal exchange of vulnerability, the trust of a sincere heart-to-heart.

But then again, how many people has Siete talked to, just like this? The world is large, and he's met many people that Siete's helped. Six thinks of the people on the Grandcypher that have come to seek Siete for help. He thinks of the people in this town. "I can't say," he decides. Six's entire life is another drop in the bucket for Siete, and there's no use convincing himself otherwise.

"Try me?"

Six has already tested his patience and the limits of his kindness many times before, he's sure. "I cannot."

"Wow, I thought that would work. It was an open invitation for you to air out all your grievances, although I guess no one's ever needed prompting for that," Siete laughs, and it hurts to hear. "But you know, Six," and his voice grows quieter, surprisingly open in its raw sadness. "I'd hate to see you go. I'm sure the rest of the Eternals would, too. But I trust you know what's best for you and you're not just, say, trying to run away from something."

Immediately, Six's hands tighten into fists. "Leave me," he snarls, humiliated at having been read so easily by the one person he wanted to stay closed off from. He wonders whether Siete knows, too, that Six is in love with him.

"Struck a nerve?" Siete smiles, but there's nothing but compassion in it, and he shifts a fraction closer to Six. He hates that he can't be _angry,_ because Siete is right and wrong at the same time.

"I'm not running away," he spits. "I'm preventing disaster from befalling us. History repeats, as they say."

"I don't believe it for a second," Siete says, suddenly indignant. "I know you think you're better than that."

"Do I?"

"I do." Siete looks at him, the conviction in his eyes pinning Six into place. "I don't know what it is you're going through, but just so you know—if you've got a problem with anything, we're more than happy to listen. _Especially_ me, Six."

When there's no response, he raises his hands up in a show of defeat, but there's no smirk on his face, and Six knows from the bottom of his heart that Siete wasn't trying to goad a reaction out of him. That despite everything, Siete was _listening_ to him.

Siete does nothing and everything all at once; he lays the pieces on the board for Six to play, only to checkmate and realize he's been playing against himself.

Six doesn't stop him when he walks away, staring at him until he blends into the shadows.

* * *

(The door closes behind Siete, and he lets out a sigh, letting his head fall back against it.

Was it right to do that? He was set on leaving the Eternals, as sudden as it seemed, and the conviction with which he'd admitted he was resigning left no room for argument. Six has never been shy about voicing how much he dislikes being part of the Eternals. Him leaving them was always going to be a possibility.

But Six is a good fighter with a greater heart, and there isn't anyone like him across the entire skydom. He's checked. Back when recruiting people for the Eternals, he'd done preliminary investigations before deciding to approach Six—call it a feeling, call it a hunch, but Siete _knew_.

It's only natural that Siete would fight to keep him. Six is good, in heart and in skill, and despite what he might think, he fits with the rest of them well.

 _You're only saying that because you love him,_ his mind interjects .

Of course he does. He loves all of the Eternals. He wants t he best for all of them. And Six is no exception, he tells himself, in vain—

 _You're in love with him,_ he knows, and he doesn't try to deny it.)

 

 


End file.
